


Old Enough To Know Better

by Butternuggets



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Only in one chapter but still, be warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27633686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butternuggets/pseuds/Butternuggets
Summary: Baldwin de Clermont manages to upset an ancient hag.He wakes up...different.
Relationships: Baldwin Clairmont/Original Character(s), Baldwin de Clermont/Original Female Character(s), Diana Bishop/Matthew Clairmont
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	1. The Morning After

He had noticed when the spell hit him. How could he not? It smelt strongly of ergot and rotting meat, and felt like somebody took a sledgehammer to his stomach. But when nothing happened immediately after, Baldwin put it down to his vampiric constitution shrugging it off, and left the cackling Bavarian hag to the rest of the Congregation.

He had had a long day of stalled negotiating so it was quite good to be able to finally crawl into bed. He was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Then the dreams started.

He was running by a lake-no, by a river, through a forest. There was something chasing him, something with fangs and claws and a loud screeching cackle that echoed through the trees.

He was sitting at the head of the dining room table at Sept Tours, drinking wine with Ysabeau on his left and Matthew to his right. Something felt off. 'Is the...wine..to your taste?' asked Matthew, his mouth sliding into a wider and wider smile until it opened to show row upon row of needle-sharp teeth.

A clump of dirt hit him in the face. 'Ssh, shh' cooed Ysabeau soothlingly, as she shovelled another load of soil ontop of him. Baldwin tried to call out but he couldn't speak around the gag in his mouth. He couldn't move; he looked down and saw thick rope wound around and around his torso.

_Time to wake up little prince.._

Baldwin jerked awake with a sudden start, his heart pounding and the ghost of a cackle ringing in his ears.

* * *

'Mummy, something's wrong with Uncle Baldwin.'

Rebecca came barreling into the room, Phillip close behind. Diana looked up from her cup of tea; she and Matthew were having breakfast in the dining room with Ysabeau, while Marthe hovered in the background, waiting to collect the dishes.

'He won't come out of his room' Philip pulled himself up into a chair beside his mother and stole a piece of her toast. 'He said to tell Marthe to come up and see him straight away please.'

'Did you see him?' asked Ysabeau, concerned, as Marthe bustled out of the room. The twins shook their heads.

'No, he wouldn't open the door' said Rebecca. Diana opened her mouth to say something when there came the faint echo of someone swearing profusely, and Marthe came racing back downstairs.

'You must come. Now.'

Marthe, pale and shaken, grabbed Ysabeau by the wrist and ferried her quickly up to Baldwin's room.

'Stay here, and don't wander off!' Diana pushed her unfinished pile of toast towards the children, then ran after her mother-in-law.

'Baldwin, I've brought them' Marthe rapped gently on the door. Diana glanced up at Matthew: his face was twisted into an expression of confusion and curiosity, nose sniffing the air as if he was looking for something.

'What is it?' Diana asked, squeezing his arm gently.

'I'm not sure' Matthew murmured. 'But I-'

There was a loud squeak of protest as the ancient door opened. Diana gasped. Matthew's jaw dropped, and Ysabeau reeled, clutching Marthe for support.

A dishevelled Baldwin Montclair stood before them. He was still wearing his silk pyjamas and his unbrushed hair was flopping down into his eyes. He was as white as a sheet, and trembling from head to toe.

And very, very human.


	2. Phone Call

'But how is this possible?' Ysabeau asked, for the umpteenth time.

They were gathered around the kitchen table, Baldwin propped up in a chair with a blanket wrapped firmly around his shoulders to ward off shock. Diana shrugged and threw her hands in the air.

‘I have no idea! There are plenty of spells and potions that can alter appearance, but I’ve never heard of _anything_ like this!’

‘That’s a comfort’ muttered Baldwin.

‘Where did you say the witch was from?’ asked Marthe, as she gathered Baldwin up in a gentle hug.

‘She was found in Ederheim’ said Matthew.

The witch in question, Verich, had been discovered loitering around a shopping centre in Ederheim handing out candy canes to local children. She was a genuine old world hag; hooked nose and chin, warts, long ragged robes. A nearby coven had alerted the Congregation to her presence, and since then they had been trying to convince her not to remain out in the open for too long, for fear that the humans would become suspicious.

Matthew’s mobile began to ring. He looked at the caller id, grimaced, and set it to speaker.

‘Hello?’

‘Tell your brother to answer his damn phone’ Domenico growled down the line.

‘Is there something I can help you with?’ asked Matthew.

‘The hag has disappeared; Gerbert thinks she’s gone back to the Black Forest’ Baldwin stuffed the blanket into his mouth to stop himself from screaming with rage.

‘Did she leave a note?’

‘She did actually,’ there was a slightly rustling sound as Domenico fished a piece of paper from his pocket, ‘Ein Jahr und ein Tag. Agatha thinks that’s when Verich will be back.’

‘Thank you for letting us know’ said Matthew grimly, cutting the other man off as he shut down the call. Baldwin looked stricken. Ysabeau and Marthe were ashen-faced.

‘A year and a day?’ said Diana, horrified.

Baldwin slammed a hand down on the bench next to him angrily.

‘Ah, ah! Ow!’


	3. Suspicions and Confirmations

Domenico Michele was suspicious.

First, the Bavarian hag cast a foul-smelling spell at Baldwin, which hadn’t seemed to affect him in any way at the time.

Then the witch up and vanished, leaving a cryptic note behind, and suddenly Baldwin just dropped off the face of the earth.

Emails went unanswered, only Matthew or Diana answered his phone. Even his PA in London had stuttered out an apology that she hadn’t seen or heard from her boss personally for over a week. Everything was being handled by intermediaries.

Either Baldwin had died (there was always hope) or he was seriously ill. Which was… _unusual_ …for the vampire.

Which was why he was currently scaling the outer wall of Sept Tours, inching his way up the ancient masonry as he tried to keep his scent downwind. He reached the rampart and quickly darted along into a patch of shadow, listening carefully for the slow, rhythmic heartbeats of the various de Clermonts.

Marthe was down below him, her scent wafting up from a grate leading into one of the cellars. Ysabeau was with her; he could hear the faint chatter of Ysabeau’s voice as the two talked. Matthew and Diana were up above him in the tower study, and the twins’ strong heartbeats emanated from the middle of the courtyard, beside one of the flowers beds.

Domenico zoomed up onto the rooftop and made a beeline straight for Baldwin’s room. As he got closer, he paused.

The scent was Baldwin. Definitely Baldwin. But at the same time, not entirely.

He peered cautiously into the window, balked with surprised, and nearly slipped off the gargoyle he was perched on.

* * *

‘You’re absolutely sure?’ asked Gerbert.

‘Yes!’ Domenico bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, rocking slightly forward.

As soon as his brain had caught up with what his senses were telling him, he had run full tilt to Gerbert’s residence, startling the older vampire when he shot, breathless and winded, through the front door.

‘I’m telling you, he’s human!’ Domenico giggled infectiously, grinning from ear to ear. Gerbert looked thoughtful.

‘Baldwin Montclair..human..’ he murmured to himself. Domenico leaned forward, gripping Gerbert’s shoulders; Gerbert glared at him and he winced, and let go.

‘We can finally do something about him, stop him from interfering in our plans. Permanently.’

Gerbert glared sharply at him again. ‘You had better be sure you can pull it off before you try. Violating the sanctity of Sept Tours will bring recriminations.’

Domenico nodded. ‘I know, but when are we ever going to be presented with such a golden opportunity again?’

‘True..’

‘Look, if you don’t want to put your name to this I completely understand, but can’t you see how easy this will be?’

Gerbert let out a derisive snort. ‘That’s the last thing this will be.’

* * *

They chose to make their move the following morning, just as the sun began to rise. Moving swiftly but cautiously, they followed the same route that Domenico had taken the day prior, and soon found themselves slipping silently through a now-unlatched window.

Baldwin was sound asleep in bed, snoring loudly, one hand thrown above him across the pillow. He twitched and let out a low noise as Domenico approached; Gebert’s hand shot out and he caught the younger man by the elbow.

‘Gently’ he whispered. ‘Go slowly now.’

Domenico nodded impatiently, and they waited half a minute until Baldwin had grown still once again.

Then they crept closer.


	4. Baldwin's Stubborness Almost Costs Him

A cannon-loud cracking boom reverberated through the castle. Matthew and Diana sat bolt upright in bed, and looked at each other, horrified.

“The wards-”

“Baldwin!”

Matthew rocketed out the door as Diana leapt for the nearest window, flinging it open and rising into the air like a balloon. She flew across to, and through, the now-destroyed window of Baldwin’s bedroom to discover Marthe and Ysabeau, shaking with fury, standing over the unconcious bodies of Domenico and Gerbert.

‘Well done, _Maman_ ’ said Matthew, appearing in the doorway. Ysabeau shook her head.

‘We did nothing’

‘They were unconcious when we found them’ Marthe explained. Diana stared at her, confused.

‘But..but how could the warding have done that? It wasn’t supposed to hurt people, just warn us-’

Ysabeau was already shaking her head again.

‘Your wards didn’t do this. They didn’t warn us either. They should have, if _someone_ -’ she jabbed a finger towards the bed behind her, ‘-hadn’t deliberately broken them. They've been scratched out.’

‘ _What?!_ Oh, of all the stubborn, stupid, pig-headed..’ Diana marched past Marthe, muttering a string of insults under her breath.

Baldwin was, miraculously, still asleep; curled up contentedly in a ball with the sheets pulled up to his chest, snoring quietly, with a small puddle of drool collecting on his pillow. Oddly, there were thin wisps of smoke wafting off his face and hands.

Diana resisted the urge to punch him and carefully opened her second sight. There was a network of fibrous silver lines like a spider’s web wrapped around Baldwin’s hands, feet, and heart, with a large collar of the stuff bound beneath his chin. Two long offshoots had sprung from just above his wrists and were winding themselves slowly around Domenico and Gerbert, pulsing a vibrant, glittering burgundy.

‘I think the curse protected itself’ Diana closed her eyes to ground herself, then opened them again. ‘Either that or it’s designed in such a way that no one can harm the recipient. Either way, it looks like it’s in the process of transferring or copying itself onto these two.’ She nudged Domenico sharply with her foot. He didn’t stir.

There was a snort, and a rustle of movement from the bed as Baldwin suddenly woke up.

‘What’s going on?’ he demanded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

‘Matthew, Diana, Marthe, please leave us’ Ysabeau enunciated icily, turning to face him. Baldwin shrank back a little, his eyes widening.

‘I would like a moment alone with my son.’

The last thing Diana saw as Marthe closed the door behind them was Baldwin trying desperately to disappear into the corner of the bed, while Ysabeau drew herself up to her full height and took a deep, deep breath.


	5. Baldwin's First Proper Breakfast

As a reward for not dying that morning, and surviving the wrath of both Ysabeau and Diana (she screamed at him for 20 minutes about destroying her wards), Marthe decided that it was time to introduce Baldwin to solid food. For the past week or so they had kept him on soup and broth, to get him used to the idea of proper meal times and his body’s new nutritional needs.

Baldwin had tried drinking his favourite wine, but the lack of overwhelming flavour had made him depressed.

'It's still very good wine' said Diana. Baldwin shrugged.

‘It’s not the same when you can’t taste the history’ he whined petulantly.

Of all the family, the ones best handling the bizarre situation were the twins. Phillip and Rebecca had taken it upon themselves to reintegrate their uncle into regular human life, after Matthew and Diana had carefully explained the situation.

‘How did they get into your room?’ Rebecca eyeballed her uncle suspiciously. Baldwin squirmed, and coughed.

‘I..um..I may have accidently left the window open’

Rebecca sighed and shook her head. 

‘You have to be careful now, Uncle Baldwin, or more things like that will happen!’

She gestured over his shoulder as Matthew walked past, gently carrying Gerbert. He carefully lowered him onto a chaise lounge, then returned to Baldwin’s room for Domenico. He dragged him downstairs and unceremoniously dumped him on the floor next to Gerbert.

‘Here you are, poached eggs and bacon’ Marthe slid the plate onto the table in front of Baldwin, who sniffed, then tentatively prodded one of the eggs. The eggs were cradled on two thick slices of toast, and the bacon sat next to them in a neat pile, fat still attached.

‘C’mon Uncle Baldwin’ said Phillip encouragingly, ‘If you don’t try it, you won’t know whether you like it or not.’

Baldwin nodded, eyed his plate dubiously, then put a small portion of egg into his mouth. His nose wrinkled as he got used to the odd texture, but he nodded and swallowed without any complaint. Then he tried the bacon.

‘...merde sacrée..’

‘Do you need help finishing that?’ asked Rebecca slyly, eyeing the plate. Baldwin curled an arm protectively around his breakfast and continued shovelling food into his mouth hungrily. The twins giggled.


	6. Gerbert and Domenico Wake Up

Panicked screaming rent the evening air. Baldwin smiled, set aside the towel he had been using to dry his hair after his shower, and practically skipped down to the living room.

Gerbert was sitting bolt upright on the chaise lounge, his face a sickening mix of white and green. Ysabeau was hovering next to him, exuding tranquil fury. Domenico crouched, curled into a ball, next to the fireplace, tremulously examining himself.

‘Awake at last’ drawled Baldwin. Domenico's head shot up towards him and he staggered clumsily to his feet, stabbing a shaking finger at the former vampire.

‘You! Did this! You did this! How did you do this??!’

‘I did nothing. You, on the other hand, broke into my house’ hissed Baldwin. Domenico let out a shrill bark of laughter, took a few steps forward, and grabbed Baldwin by the front of his dressing gown.

‘Like you wouldn’t do the same. Fix this now De Clermont, or I swear- ’

‘I can’t’

‘You’re lying’

‘ “Ein Jahr und ein Tag”. I’m afraid you -we- are going to be stuck like this for a while’ said Baldwin, sounding somewhat sympathetic. Domenico’s face went slack with horrified understanding.

‘..the hag..’

‘Indeed’ Ysabeau slid quietly up beside them, hands clasped before her. ‘It would appear the curse she cast on Baldwin is contagious, and since both you and Gerbert have so gracefully contracted it, you will be staying at Sept Tours for the duration.’

She winced as though she had sucked on a lemon. Gerbert looked up at her, shocked, while Domenico snorted and rocked back onto his heels.

‘I’d rather-’

‘I don’t care what you would rather’ Ysabeau’s face remained impassive, but Baldwin knew she was well and truly at the end of her tether. ‘You stole into Sept Tours with the intention of slaughtering my son in his bed, or kidnapping him. For that alone I should destroy the pair of you.’

‘Even so, it would not reflect well on the De Clermont name to take advantage of a situation like this. Therefore, since you clearly cannot be allowed to return to your respective territories to face this on your own, I am prepared to put up with you until this unfortunate situation is rectified.’

‘However-’ and here Ysabeau paused, placing a cold palm against the front of Domenico’s chest. She barely flexed a finger before the newly-mortal ex-vampire went pinwheeling backwards, collapsing in an undignified heap against a chair.

‘Attempt to maim or kill a member of this family while you are living under my roof and there will be consequences.’


	7. Nicknames Are Important

The Christmas school holidays were in full swing, giving the twins plenty of time to bond with their new "uncles". It took the better part of a day before they grew tired of repeatedly saying "Uncle Domenico" ('It's sooo long! Its got too many vowels!') and settled on "Uncle Dom" instead.

Gerbert’s nickname took a little longer to sort out. Unlike Baldwin and Domenico, who had both been turned relatively young, Gerbert had been pushing seventy when he was turned, and the twins thought that his moniker should reflect his geriatric status.

He certainly looked the part of an elderly gentleman. His knees had given out two hours after he woke up, and he had had to suffer the indignity of having Marthe push him around in a wheeled office chair. Since then he had been outfitted with a cane, and an electronic wheelchair for when he had overexerted himself and couldn’t manage walking.

Right now he was parked beside one of the flower beds in the south lawn, eyeing the twins with suspicion. They had been whispering back and forth for ages, glancing up at him and then back to each other. It was driving him insane.

‘We know what we’re going to call you now’ announced Rebecca, solemnly. Philip nodded.

‘Grunkle Ger!’

Gerbert’s knuckles whitened as he squeezed the armrests of the wheelchair. He had razed cities, commanded armies, conquered and sequestered countless vampire clans. He had even served as pope, for God’s sake! He deserved respect!

He unlocked the brakes and rolled the wheelchair closer to the twins.

‘I could smother you to death in your sleep!’ Gerbert hissed. 

Philip gave him a long, sidelong stare, while Rebecca made bright blue flames dance across her fingertips.

‘Try it, old man.’


	8. The One With The Snow Angels

'Mummy, may I please feed Apollo some fish?' asked Philip.

Diana and Matthew shared a glance. They had known this day was coming, but they didn't have to like it.

'Apollo?' Gerbert and Domenico echoed.

Baldwin sighed and hid his bowl of porridge beneath the table as Diana plastered a cheery smile on her face and nodded.

'Of course darling'

The griffin burst from Philip’s side onto the table, scattering plates and flipping Domenico’s scrambled eggs into his lap. Philip dissolved into a gale of laughter, while Gerbert watched the familiar with a mixture of awe and poorly-disguised greed.

‘AH-AH! Down!’ Diana frowned, sternly pointing her finger towards the floor. Phillip smiled and patted the side of his chair.

‘ ’Pollo, sit!’ the familiar perked up at the sound of its name and leapt across to squat beside its master. Phillip dropped some of his sardines into Apollo’s gaping mouth; the griffon chewed delicately on them, then swallowed.

‘And do you have a familiar?’ Gerbert asked, voice dripping with syrupy sweetness as he turned towards Rebecca. She stared at him over her cereal.

‘A pterodactyl’

Domenico let out a loud snort of derision.

‘Yeah, right’ He glanced Baldwin, then Diana and Matthew, as the silence stretched.

‘..right?’

* * *

The snowfall in Sept Tours had been unusually heavy that year. Both the castle and the surrounding village were covered in white, long thin icicles hanging from the edges of roofs and cars being swallowed up by snowdrifts.

The twins had been barred from going outside until Marthe borrowed Apollo and Corra, using them like intelligent flame-throwers to melt the iced-over pathways through the gardens. Now Becca was running around trying to find her bobble hat and gloves; Phillip was hopping awkwardly as he tried to pull on his boots and wrap his scarf around his neck at the same time.

Baldwin would never admit it, but for the last few weeks he had been using Diana as a human weather barometer. If she looked outside in the morning and decided to wear a coat, Baldwin would quietly copy her.

He didn’t have to today. Marthe had been on a shopping spree, and dropped off a thick black coat, beanie, gloves and scarf. She’d bought similiar items for Gerbert and Domenico as well, although instead of a beanie, Gerbert was sporting a russian-style fur hat with earflaps.

The twins went hurtling out the front door, screaming with delight and launching themselves face-first into the nearest snowdrift. Domenico slipped on the slick pavestones almost immediately, reflexively grabbing the back of Baldwin’s jacket as he fell, dragging Baldwin down with him.

Gerbert chuckled as the two men, cursing loudly, untangled themselves.

‘Be careful; you wouldn’t want to break something would you?’ he smiled.

Baldwin ignored him and headed off after the twins, while Domenico paused, a slow grin spreading across his face.

‘Don’t you da-’

‘Oops!’

Domenico spun Gerbert’s wheelchair around and pushed. It sailed forwards a good metre or so before careening wildly off the path and into a mound of snow.

Gerbert let out an indignant scream of fury but it was muffled by a mouthful of ice. Coughing and spluttering, he managed to half-crawl forward on his elbows until he could turn onto his back, facing up towards the sky. Now he just had to get up the energy to flip the wheelchair off him.

‘Oh, that’s disgusting!’ he grimaced as the snow that had slipped down the back of his jacket began to melt. He spread his arms out and tried to wriggle so that the moisture warmed up and evaporated faster.

The ghost of his childhood suddenly giggled in his ear. If he scraped his arms up and down, then-

No. That was idiotic.

...still...

Gerbert craned his head forward. There was no one else around.

If anyone spotted the impressions in the snow he could pass it off as him flailing, trying to push himself up.

He checked again. No one was watching.

Gerbert chuckled quietly to himself, and made a snow angel.

* * *

In spite of himself, Domenico was actually having a lot of fun.

He had reluctantly, then enthusiastically, helped Phillip make a snowman (Becca and Baldwin’s snowman was three times smaller, but much smoother and compact), then halfway through setting up a tobogganing jump and a small igloo Domenico managed to sneak up behind Baldwin and dump a handful of snow down his back.

The garden would be his grave.

While Baldwin frantically built a miniature Hadrian’s wall, Becca rolled snowball after snowball, reaching cautiously above the barricade to lob them at Domenico and her brother. They were bunkered down in a shallow crater, having forgone proper shielding in order to focus on making ammunition.

‘Slightly to the left Rebecca!’ Gerbert called out. He had wheeled himself to the top of the toboganning jump and was parked there, occasionally shouting advice.

‘SHUT UP OLD MAN!’ Domenico pegged a snowball towards Gerbert; the shot went wide, sailing over Gerbert’s head. He ducked down to avoid a snowball to the face from Baldwin, and whispered in Philip’s ear. The boy nodded enthusiastically, giggling.

There was a loud swooshing noise and Apollo launched into the air, bee-lining towards the other fort.

‘AERIAL ASSAULT!’ Philip and Domenico screamed. Baldwin swore and threw himself over Becca, who looked absolutely furious. Apollo made a noise like a cat being sick, and a volley of snow balls rocketed down, thudding into Baldwin’s back.

Becca, wriggling a hand out from beneath her uncle, aimed carefully. A column of fire suddenly erupted beneath Apollo, lightly singeing its feathers and sending the startled griffin pinwheeling back towards its master, shrieking loudly.

Marthe ambled into view, serenly taking in the chaos before her.

‘Lunch time!’

Gerbert wheeled himself back towards the castle, the twins and Baldwin shoving each other and arguing as they trailed along in his wake. Domenico, staying behind for a moment to pretend to re-tie his shoes, glanced furtively around to make sure no one was watching, lay down on the ground, and gave into the childish urge that had been buzzing around the back of his skull for the last hour and made a snow angel.

* * *

The tobogganing slope worked well. Really, really well.

Too well.

It had originally been a giant mound of snow, compacted by hand and shovel. There were pockmarks and it crumpled slightly around the edges after each use, but it held itself together.

Then Pip froze it.

Now there was a solid, nearly indestructable toboggan slope-shaped iceberg sitting in the middle of the lawn. Pip had immediately rushed to the top; the speed with which he went whizzing off the end was enough to launch the toboggan into the air and carry him an extra five metres, cackling hysterically. Baldwin went and fetched the riding helmets.

After that there was no stopping the twins. Becca and Pip pushed themselves off the top of the slope more and more aggresively, while Domenico pushed a series of makeshift treebranch markers into the ground to see who’s toboggan flew the farthest. Pip even extended the top of the slope so they could get a running start. In hindsight, this was absolutely the moment Baldwin should have put his foot down and been the responsible adult, but he had a two metre lead on Domenico and wasn’t about to let that crawly little git win.

Hence, the snow shoes.

Baldwin strapped the metal spikes to the bottom of his boots, careful not to cut himself. He put his toboggan on the slope in front of him, ground his heels into the ice, and tensed.

‘Ready..’ Becca raised her mittened hand in the air, ‘Set....GO!’

Baldwin sprinted forward, throwing himself onto the toboggan as just as it tipped over the edge. The extra boost of power from the jump caused the toboggan to shoot forward, gathering speed at an alarming rate until it reached the end of the slope and launched into the air.

‘OOF!’ Baldwin gasped as the breath was knocked from his lungs, the toboggan landing hard on a frosted-over patch of ground. Marker after marker whizzed past, the twins chanting and whoops of joy turning into concerned yells as Baldwin overshot the final marker and went careening up and over a hill, straight into the treeline.

Baldwin grit his teeth, cursed, and pulled on the brakes. He missed a rapidly approaching oak but the toboggan flipped, throwing him clear.

He went rocketing into a hedge, skidding to a stop on the other side bruised, bleeding, and lying half-buried in a snowdrift, but alive.

‘Ow..’ He flexed his fingers and toes; nothing seemed broken.

Relieved, and slightly out of it, he gingerly spread his arms and did a small snow angel to celebrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luna the pterodactyl is not canon in this story. Becca was f**king with her new uncles ^^
> 
> I don’t think familiars in the ADOW universe can breathe elements, but I don’t care lol
> 
> Marthe and Alain have zoom-lens cameras and absolutely took photos of Gerbert, Domenico and Baldwin making snow angels XD


	9. Meeting Liv

It was inevitable really; the Congregation had to be told. Diana organised a video conference call, and paraded the reluctant trio in front of the laptop.

‘And you say the curse is _transferable?_ ’ asked Janet Gowdie. The witches had been eyeing them with deep interest; Satu Järvinen in particular looked positively giddy that her former allies had been rendered virtually helpless.

Diana was privately quite pleased that she had refrained from bursting into peals of hysterical laughter, because she looked like she was going to the second the conference call ended and she wasn’t entirely sure Gerbert wouldn’t have simply stormed out, booked a flight to Finland, and whipped up a mob of angry locals to help him tear her limb from limb.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the daemons were the most sympathetic. Baldwin bristled at Agatha’s pitying gaze, but her words were more biting.

‘Perhaps now you’ll come to appreciate our position a bit more’

Domenico snorted. Gerbert twitched. Baldwin looked away.

‘Again, it’s transferable? There’s nothing we can do?’

‘No’ said Diana, firmly, ‘If we tried I think the curse would continue transferring from caster to caster until every creature involved would be changed. Luckily, the situation won’t be forever, but we’d appreciate it if you could keep an eye out in case Verich shows herself again’

‘Of course’

There was a chorus of confirmations, and Diana cut the video feed.

‘Well, now that’s dealt with, I’m going out’ said Baldwin. Diana looked up at him, startled, and he rolled his eyes at her concerned expression.

‘Don’t worry, I’m only heading into town to do some Christmas shopping. I’ll be fine.’

* * *

He was not fine.

Everything had started out alright. He had successfully navigated the busy congestion, paying careful attention to the hoards of screaming children, harried women and distracted men scurrying back and forth across the narrow streets, and parked the black SUV in an underground carpark just off the main square.

He’d walked around the corner, allowing himself to be caught in the tide of people headed forward, and had spent a pleasant hour meandering through the busy market stalls set up in the square to entice further business for local craftsman and the surrounding shopfronts.

Then he started to feel...off.

A lump of bile had risen up his throat that he just couldn’t swallow. He felt lightheaded, and kept skittering forward impulsively every time there was a break in the crowd. After a further five minutes nervously zig-zagging around clusters of people, the crowd suddenly grew so thick that he was walled in on all sides.

Baldwin couldn’t breath.

He was, he knew he was, but it felt like his lungs were working double-time and taking nothing in. He froze, rooted to the spot, then suddenly bolted out through the press of people, shoving his way past until he breached the edge of the mob and flung himself into a wooden bench.

Five minutes, twenty; he thought he was going to be sick, trembling from head to toe, gripping the bench so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He had to get awa-NO, no, he had to stay-what was _happening_ - _run awa_ -

‘Open wide’

Baldwin let his jaw go slack and something cold and wet was pushed onto his tongue. He paused, confused.

_Why do I have an ice cube in my mouth?_

‘Wha ifher ‘n ‘scoob ‘n ma m’th?’

‘My name’s Livinia but my friends call me Liv. I’m pretty sure we’re the same age; did you know that bees can recognise human faces?’

Baldwin spat the cube out into his open hand. Liv handed him a tissue.

‘On average, people who complain live longer due to positive stress relief’

‘Hah! Then I’m going to live forever’

‘A bite from an African boomslang snake will cause your blood to come pouring out of every orifice’

Baldwin turned and stared at her, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

‘Eurgh, that sounds disgusting’

Liv nodded sagely, her hands reaching up to re-tighten the black hairtie wrapped around her messy bun. A few strands of chestnut hair escaped and dropped down over her eyes, but she pinned them back into place.

‘René Laennec invented the stethoscope because he wasn’t willing to put his ear against the chest of his female patients in order to listen for heart disease’

‘Very respectful of him’

Liv smelt faintly of potting mix, and was wearing jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a black velveteen jacket covered in Hungarian embroidery. She was smiling broadly at him, and there were faint laugh lines starting to settle around her dark hazel eyes.

‘Feeling better now? I hope so’

Baldwin blinked. He was surprised to find that his heart rate had come back down without him noticing, and his breathing was even.

He grimaced and rubbed his hands awkwardly together.

‘Sorry about that, I don’t know what came over me’

Liv was already shaking her head.

‘It’s tough, walking through a crowd. Especially at this time of year. No need to apologise.’

‘Still, I feel I should’

She nodded.

‘Well you have, so it’s done. By the way, you don’t have to leave just yet if you don’t want to; you’re not bothering me and I’ve got all the time in the world.’

Baldwin smiled at her.

‘Well, I suppose I could hang around for a few more interesting facts’

Liv chuckled, and Baldwin joined in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @beautifulsoulsublime thank you for giving me a character design for my OC, and thank you @lady-lazarus-declermont for helping me pick a name!
> 
> Liv's look is based on actress Maxim Roy.


	10. A Favour for A Friend

Liv had given Baldwin her business card with her contact details on it, but he waited until Monday morning to call so that he didn’t appear too desperate.

She picked up after the second ring, and spent a pleasant few minutes chatting nonsense, when her voice took on an awkard, pleading quality.

‘Listen, I know this is a bit of a liberty, but would you mind doing me a massive favour?’

‘Anything’

‘My assistant’s gone home to her family already and we’ve just received an overdue shipment of product. Would you be able to come round to the shop and help me put all the boxes downstairs? I’m very sorry, but I don’t have anyone else who help’

‘Really, it’s fine’ said Baldwin, ‘I’d be happy to’

He was surprised by just how much he meant it. He heard her smile down the phone line.

‘Thank you! Thanks very much! Would tomorrow be too soon?’

‘No, that’s fine’

‘Perfect, well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning around nine, then’

* * *

The shop was a two-storey brick and tile construct sandwiched between a bakery and a newsagent. Baldwin vaguely remembered a time when the building had once held a tailor’s shop; now the wooden sign hanging above the door read ‘Blooms et Bric-A-Brac’. A brass bell tolled loudly above the door as Baldwin stepped inside.

Everything smelt of furniture polish and time. Antique collectibles and odd trinkets lay in glass cabinets and on wooden shelves between bottles of organic toiletries and potted plants of various size. The whole shop was a jumbled, eclectic mess, which somehow, worked.

 _It’s quite...homely_.

‘Good morning, is there anything I can help you with today?’

Liv was standing, smiling, behind the counter. Her hair was brushed back into a ponytail, and she had swapped her grey tee for a crisp white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

‘I heard that there was an assistant position available?’ said Baldwin, playing along.

‘I’m very sorry; the position has been filled’

‘Oh, well then’ Baldwin turned back towards the door, ‘I’ll just go-’

‘Wait, wait!’ Liv ran over, laughing, and gently steered Baldwin by the shoulders towards a staircase in the back left-hand corner of the room. A pleasant prickling feeling trickled down his spine.

‘The boxes are down here’

* * *

The staircase spiralled down into a small windowless room, with an oak door leading into the rest of the basement, and about thirty cardboard boxes stacked neatly in a pile. The rough stone walls were clean, with a high vaulted ceiling crisscrossed with wooden beams. Baldwin made an appreciative noise.

‘This would make an excellent wine cellar’ he said, glancing around. He looked down at the tiled floor and frowned contemplatively.

‘...Have you sunk the floor? This seems lower than the outside foundations’

‘We have a permit’ said Liv breezily, unlocking the door. Baldwin raised an eyebrow, and followed.

From floor to ceiling, wall to wall, in hanging pots, strung up on wire latticework and set in neat rows in planter boxes on the floor, was a forest of flowers. The smell was overpowering and Baldwin held his nose for a moment, struggling not to sneeze.

‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I should have asked!’ Liv gasped. She put a hand on Baldwin’s shoulder; the gentle jostle threw off his control and he let out a booming sneeze, covering his face with the crook of his elbow.

‘Are you allergic to pollen?!’

‘No’ said Baldwin, thickly. He fished a handkerchief out of his coat pocket.

‘Whoo, thank god! Are you ok?’

‘I’ll be fine’ Baldwin gestured towards the underground garden.

‘Quite the setup you have here’

‘It’s mostly for my cousin’

She led him along the edge of the room to a scarred antique desk covered in a complicated set-up of vials, pipettes, and measuring jars. A bowl with a piece of cheesecloth in it, and a well-used saucepan, were placed on a small camping oven on the edge of the desk; books, scraps of paper, and clean empty glass bottles organised by size sat on a bookshelf behind it.

‘Theo makes the perfumes that we sell here. The rest of the plants we use to make creams and lotions, or we put them up for sale'

'Very impressive'

'Thank you!'

* * *

It was...nice.

Baldwin helped shift the boxes, stacking them one by one next to each other in a walk-in refrigerator tucked into a side alcove. Liv made a joke about serial killers. He laughed, and passed her another box.

She popped upstairs to help customers while he ripped the sticky tape open with a utility knife and fished out newly-labelled beauty products with ingrediants like milk thistle and aloe vera.

They closed the shop up just before lunch, walking down the city streets until they came to a small café that was Liv’s favourite. They had boeuf bourguignon with potatoes- Baldwin made a mental note to request Marthe make it for him again sometime- and drank Kir Royales while watching pedestrians shuffle past.


	11. Liv and Baldwin's First Date

'Would you like to go on a date?'

Baldwin experienced the longest half-second of his life. His palms started sweating. Had he read the situation correctly?

'I'd love to!' Liv beamed down the phone. Baldwin let out the shaky breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and started grinning from ear to ear.

'How about Thursday evening, after work? I'll come pick you up from the shop?'

'That sounds great'

'Dress warm'

'Ooh, ok'

* * *

**Thursday**

Ysabeau caught her eldest fixing his hair in the hallway mirror and smiled quietly to herself. She knew that look. Baldwin must be a bundle of nerves; the last time he had had a date was with Eva Jaeger in 1959.

Ysabeau melted into the shadows and watched silently as Baldwin stepped out the front door.

'Whoever they are,' said Marthe, as she came around the corner, 'Let's hope they don't break his heart too badly'

'Mm'

Baldwin was grating and prickly under normal circumstances. Baldwin after a difficult break up was intolerable. Back in '59, he had managed to whip Matthew into such a state of incandescent fury that Gallowglass had been forced to sit on his uncle until his blood rage calmed down.

 _Faith consists in believing what reason cannot_ , as Voltaire once said. Reason told Ysabeau that Baldwin was going to do something or say something that would end with him being kicked to the curb by yet another woman, or, even more likely, he would end things himself because he no longer found her charming, witty, talented, useful...but she had faith in him, too, that perhaps one day he might meet his equal-opposite, and finally settle.

She hoped.

* * *

The open-air skating rink had been there since the town’s construction. It stood in the middle of a field on the edge of town, a lake encircled by trees. Parking spaces and a restaurant had sprung up over the decades; although it was the off-season, there were a few couples and small families lingering on the ice.

Baldwin parked the Tesla as close as he could, and they walked hand in hand down the short gravel path to the skate booth.

'I told you, I haven't been skating in years; I'm going to be hopeless! Don't blame me if I accidentally chop off your toes' said Liv, as she braced against Baldwin in order to push her foot into the ice skate.

'You also said that you wanted to get back into it, so don't be so infantile' Baldwin teased. Liv gasped in mock outrage and slapped him playfully on the arm.

They started out strong, pulling each other along without too much difficulty. Then Liv brought her foot down awkwardly and it slipped out from under her, sending her sprawling. Baldwin tried to grab her by the arm, which he did, but the motion made him lose his balance and they both ended up on the ice.

Two and a half hours later, and Baldwin could feel a spiderweb of bruises forming on his legs and bottom. But it was worth it; Liv hadn’t stopped smiling, and at one point after a particularly spectacular crash, she’d even laughed so hard she’d gotten slightly teary-eyed and smudged her mascara.

Night fell. The fairy lights woven through the trees came on, and the gentle chime of a dinner bell announced that the restaurant was open.

‘Shall we?’ Baldwin offered Liv his arm; she took it.

‘We shall’

* * *

‘So, let me see if I’ve got this straight,’ said Liv, as they started in on their meal, ‘Baldwin Montclair, bank manager-’

‘-Investment banker-’

‘-Corporate desk jockey-’ Liv smiled into her wine as Baldwin glared across at her. ‘No close friends, and a large family you’d rather not talk about except for your niece and nephew.’

‘And you,’ Baldwin pointed a fork at Liv, ‘Livinia Preston, business owner and amateur florist-’

‘Mm-hm’

‘-no siblings, parents retired from owning a vast restaurant chain specialising in seafood. One cousin whom you’re extremely close to, and an aunt who is currently on an archaeological dig somewhere in the Middle East.’

‘Got it in one’ Liv smiled at Baldwin, stared at him, then smiled again, ‘We’re an odd pair, aren’t we?’

‘Well nobody’s perfect’

* * *

They talked over dinner, then over desert, then over coffee and after-dinner mints, watching the stars shining down through the transparent curved glass ceiling of the restaurant. Finally, it was time for Baldwin to drive them both back home.

‘I had a really nice time tonight’ said Liv, as she stood in the doorway of her shop. The floor above it contained her flat; she hadn’t invited Baldwin to follow her upstairs and he was loathe to pressure her into it. He would have hated himself.

‘So did I’ Baldwin waited until she had the front door open, then handed her the doggie bag full of leftovers that she had requested from the restaurant. She smiled, then fidgeted nervously with the ribbon on the box.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before but I was really having such a nice time that I didn’t want to ruin it and now I’m babbling.’

She took a breath to steady her nerves. ‘I’m afraid I won’t be here for the next few weeks. I’m spending the holidays with my parents and I won’t be back in the country until Jan 1st’

Baldwin nodded.

‘Then I’ll see you when you get back; no need to worry’

He reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

‘You have my number if you get lonely, or you just want to chat, and I’ll be here when you get back’

‘Thanks’ Liv leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Baldwin blinked, breath catching in his throat. The warmth of the kiss seared itself into his memory.

‘Good night’ said Liv, and she slipped away into the darkness.

Baldwin drove home, beaming the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picture the restaurant as being a dome with a brick-wall base and a clear glass ceiling. A lot of antique wooden furniture.
> 
> Liv was wearing a classy dress in burnt orange velveteen, with a black coat and thermals. Baldwin was wearing a more formal version of his bomber jacket ensemble he wore in season one, but with his thick winter jacket.


End file.
